


wrapped

by sassymordechais (archiveofwebs)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Harnesses, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff, Flustered and Shy Tim, Jon being utterly in love, M/M, Soft and Sweet Feelings, Tim being utterly in love, brief mentions of body image (but nothing detailed), occasionally sexually interested Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiveofwebs/pseuds/sassymordechais
Summary: It wasn’t that Tim wasn’t ashamed of this, was afraid of Jon reacting badly, was afraid of rejection...he was just...shy. Out of everything in the world, this was one of the few things that made his face heat up and hands twitch to cover something, anything. Breathing in once more (for good luck, for strength, whatever), Tim exhaled and opened his eyes and...wow.The artful design of gold stripes is tight on his body, but not tight enough to hurt. (He knows that if he were to slip a finger or two in between the straps and his skin, the release would leave a slight sting and he tried his best to hold back his body’s pleasured little shiver.)-Tim, alone, tries on a new body harness. He thinks of Jon, of their relationship. For the first time that he can remember, he's shy about wanting to share something with his partner. Not in a bad way, just in a lovestruck way.  Jon makes him soft, makes him happy. Tim isn't used to that.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	wrapped

**Author's Note:**

> This entire chapter was written to Right Back Where We Started From and I almost cried twice. 
> 
> Anyways I had an idea that other day about Tim wearing body harnesses but is incredibly shy about it and yes here we go it's soft JonTim time.
> 
> Also writing Tim for more than five lines is hard. This chapter has been interesting to write.

Standing in front of the large mirror, Tim, eyes screwed shut, ran his tongue over his teeth. It was a nervous tick he had been trying to get rid of, but he was alone in the room, in the house, so sue him. Shaking his head, he sighed. There was no reason to be nervous about this. It was just him and the mirror. Jon was out with Helen buying office supplies (why either of them needed office supplies Tim didn’t know, but Jon had said that Helen’s way of twisting tales allowed him to get out of his head for a few moments, their words drawing the Archivist in and feeding them without taxing him) and wouldn’t be back for several hours yet. 

It wasn’t that Tim wasn’t ashamed of this, was afraid of Jon reacting badly, was afraid of rejection...he was just...shy. Out of everything in the world, this was one of the few things that made his face heat up and hands twitch to cover something, anything. Breathing in once more (for good luck, for strength, whatever), Tim exhaled and opened his eyes and...wow.

The artful design of gold stripes is tight on his body, but not enough to hurt. (He knows that if he were to slip a finger or two in between the straps and his skin, the release would leave a slight sting and he tried his best to hold back his body’s pleasured little shiver.) The entire piece spread from his neck down to his upper thighs, ending at sleeve length on his biceps. Sewn onto the elastic straps where red orchids, delicately placed over his heart, his stomach, the tops of his thighs. They bloomed over his hips and one rested on the small of his back. It was a beautiful piece and looking at himself in it knocked him breathless. Tim does a small twirl to look at the back of it, ignoring the swell of his ass and the strength of his thighs. He wants to simply see what he looks like. He doesn’t want to daydream what it would be like to have rough hands tracing over the straps and kisses placed on the flowers.

It’s...him. Not Jon. Never Jon. 

He looks at the robe that’s on their bed and shakes his head. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, shouldn’t be nervous. He’s sure in his looks and he knows that-

But there’s something about  _ Jon _ seeing him in this that sends his heart beating too fast. He wants to explain it to himself, explain why he’s too shy to show Jon this side of him.

(He wonders if because for the first time, he’s in love. He’s with someone that he wants to spend his days with. It’s not a quick one and done. Jon wouldn’t even want a one, let alone many of those nights. Jon wants to hear him laugh, see him cry. Wants to take him out to cafes and movies, like the old fashioned romantic that he is. Jon wouldn’t be looking at him in this ensemble for a few minutes, he would be looking at him for hours and hours and days and days and just thinking about it makes Tim dizzy.)

Biting his bottom lip, he looks back at his robe and eyes his phone for a moment, sitting innocently next to the heavy material. He pads over to the bed and picks it up, giving the lock screen a sly grin as the little lock moves and he slides up on the picture of Sasha slamming cake into Martin’s face as Jon holds the dull cake knife midair, looking downright mortified at what just happened. 

There’s a message from Jon, just a reminder to remind Jon to tell him about the cat that wandered into Helen’s doors. (Above it is another message from earlier. It reads “Love you too.” and Tim rubs his chest without thinking.) He laughs at the thought and swipes the messaging app away. When he does, he spies the opened camera app from earlier (Jon was looking downright adorable asleep on his desk and Tim sent it to the “Jonathan Sims Underling Support Group” group chat for futuring roasting purposes), and purses his lips in thought. Glancing up to see the time, he side eyes the mirror and-

Yea. He can do this. 

He’s got a hidden folder on his phone of risque pictures of him from flings past. When he’s feeling a bit body conscious, he looks through them. (He showed Jon once because he offhandedly mentioned the folder and the other man turned an alarming shade of red very quickly. Tim simply laughed to himself and let Jon bury his face in his neck for several minutes. Once Jon’s face had turned a few shades lighter, he turned curious eyes back to the photos and scrolled through them with a gentle finger, pausing on a few for a few moments longer than others, finger hovering over images of a grinning Tim, a pouting Tim. Those he liked for future purposes. Tim knows that they will never have “proper” sex, and oh how he despises that phrase, knows that  _ penetrative _ sex isn’t likely in their future, but knows that Jon can get handsy sometimes, gets interested in sensations in himself and in Tim, that his sexual interest come and go. When he notices Jon’s more interested urges, he remembers what Jon had previously paused on. Jon commented on it once, stating that it’s Tim that makes him feel this way, that it’s Tim that makes him want to run his hands down his sides and watch the other man shiver and moan. Jon doesn’t need anything fancy, no poses or gazes, he just needs Tim, with him, under him, over him. Just Tim.) 

Now, he contemplates the pictures and the opened camera app and smiles to himself. He climbs off the bed and prowls back toward the mirror. He fixes his hair and snaps a few pictures of himself. A few full bodies, a few headshots. He rushes back to the bed to grab the robe and does a few artful posts, laughing at how cheesy the whole thing seems. After a few more photos, he turns back towards the bed and removes the robe, placing it down on the bed and setting his phone down next to it. He smiles softly as the home screen fades into darkness, the picture of Jon looking up at him with bright eyes and a sweet smile sending his heart soaring again. 

He trails his hands along his chest, toying with the flowers sewn to the inch wide straps. The red is beautiful and not normally his shade but it’s growing on him. He thinks for a moment about getting another one, maybe with black stripes. He’ll try to sneak Jon’s favorite flower out of him, maybe say he was researching flowers for a statement follow up. This one only took a few days to reach him, and the shop did have a custom option. He wouldn’t mind wearing this one a few more times until that one came. 

Maybe by then he’ll have worked up the courage to show this to Jon. 

(He tries very hard to not think of handing the piece to Jon. He tries not to think of asking Jon to help him into it. Of Jon’s bony fingers sliding over his skin to gently put the straps in their place. He knows that Jon would take his time, would want to catalog each place and each sensation. Jon would want to take it slow so he can understand what he’s doing to Tim. Tim’s heart isn’t sure it can take any more flustered thoughts for the day.) 

Glancing at the clock on the table next to Jon’s side of the bed, Tim’s eyes widen when he notices the time. He curses once and shakes his head. He’s got to change before Jon gets back, but needs to take his time less he ruins the delicate flowers of the piece. Lifting his hand to slip his fingers under the large flower curved over his shoulder, he freezes when a scarred hand wraps around his wrist and gently moves it away from the lace. Lips press briefly to the top of his spine and a very familiar voice echoes in the room around him.

“I think you should leave it on. You look breathtaking Tim.”

Tim shivers in Jon’s gentle hold, caught.

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO SORRY 
> 
> This is an exercise in multi-chapter fics for me and Jon's POV should be coming in a few days. I tend to write in a series format but this fic allows to me to try chapters so I'm gonna try it :D
> 
> I'm just chillin' over on tma twitter at [@sassymordechais](https://twitter.com/sassymordechais)! :D (I like to post fic preview a lot!)


End file.
